Physical Appearance

Izzie has wide brown eyes, a heart-shaped face, a perpetually dimpled smile and wavy, brunette hair that is currently just an inch below shoulder length. Her smile gives the impression of a sweet girl who’s never up to any good. She’s around 5’7” and athletic. She’s neither curvy nor thin, she’s somewhere in between. Izzie is also an anomaly. She’s incredibly girly while also being a typical tom-boy. Her femininity is most obvious in the things she wears. She loves colourful clothes, floaty skirts, every kind of shoe on the planet (though she has a special place in her heart for big, wrinkly boots), dangly earrings or necklaces with bells. Her hair is usually left to its own devices, for better or for worse. She’ll tie it into a messy knot with an elastic or a pair of chopsticks if she has to.

Wolf

Izzie is a big black wolf with varying shades of midnight blues and grays. Her eyes are blue in this shape. Her athleticism comes through in wolf form as well; she’s average sized and lithely muscled.Fireblooded Stats

Height: 3'3" quadruped; 7'10" duoped

Weight: approx. 680 lbs

Ability

Isabelle is capable of creating fully visual and sometimes sensory illusions. Visual illusions are easy to maintain but those which actually interact with corporeal beings are much more difficult, as she has to fabricate the illusion of touch, smell, hearing, etc.

While these illusions are effective for others, for her they are always cheapened by the knowledge that they are [i]just[/i] illusions. While held captive in Elkyone Labs, Isabelle used these illusions to entertain herself and her packmates. She would often return to Ireland, and when she was certain everyone was asleep or too high to notice, she'd recall Cillians image. Unfortunately the sensory effects of her illusions don't actually work on herself, only on others. The lack of touch may have driven her a little insane.

Relationships

Personality

WIP

Specifics

Birthplace: Kilkenny, Ireland

Education:

How to Kill Efficiently for Dummies

Religion: Atheist

Sexuality: heterosexual

Background

As a child, Isabelle was the little girl who could often be found playing in mud puddles, even when she was wearing pink overalls with sunflowers printed on them. She was allowed to play on the boy’s soccer team but she was also invited to sleep-overs where painting toe nails and discussing the beautiful blue eyes of the new boy in school were commonplace as well. She was eccentric and she didn’t fit stereotypes, but no one really minded.

Isabelle’s mother, Madelyn, met her father, Silas, while visiting family in Vancouver. They were both cops and they were both impulsive. Madelyn returned to Ireland and called Silas a month later to say she was definitely pregnant and it was definitely his. Silas would sooner bathe in the piranha infested rivers of the Amazon than admit to his family that he’d fathered a bastard child, and a shotgun wedding was arranged. Luckily Madelyn and Silas were still as crazy about each other as they had been one month prior.

Isabelle was born and raised to the age of 22 in Kilkenny. Her parents were Garda and they raised her as a strict Catholic, but it never seemed to take. Izzie spent mass on Sundays doodling silly faces in the margins of the Book of Enoch. One thing her parents impressed upon her did stick, and that was the impression that when she grew up, she would follow in their footsteps and become a Garda as well.

Izzie took boys about as seriously as she took religion. She was one of the few girls her age who appreciated a relationship that was never going anywhere. She has a theory that boys always want what they can never tame, because while she preferred the unpredictable nature of the chase and the thrill of being caught, she hated commitment, and inevitably broke the hearts of quite a few who found her spontaneity charming.

The bitterness from the Civil Wars lasted, and Izzie was enlisted to help in settling the disputes that cropped up everywhere. She never thought much of the man who’d bitten her in a bar fight fray, only that it was extremely strange that a pair of human teeth could bite through three layers of uniform to split and bruise the skin beneath. By the time the next new moon had come, she’d almost forgotten.

Once she’d discovered what she’d become, she left Kilkenny and took the first bus into Dublin, where her skills with a gun earned her an even less savory job than subduing rioters. The feuds had gone so sour that no one even stopped to frown in disapproval as Westerners drove Easterners over the border to be shot and left in the gutter. Izzie was indoctrinated fast into organized crimes — once a symbol of justice, now a criminal herself.

Izzie developed a partnership of sorts with a man in her faction – a Corkman con artist who’d swindled millions for the Irish Mafia. Their relationship went from biting sarcasm and foolish (sometimes life-threatening) pranks to actual affection. His name was Cillian. And he was human. He soothed Izzie’s tenacious Calling, which she had stubbornly tried to ignore (it went against everything she stood for). Eventually, he discovered what she was, and instead of being terrified he was thrilled and demanded she change him immediately.

She tried, but Cillian died before the werewolf virus could take over.

Izzie was distraught, ill, and had not a friend in the world to confide in. She started looking up the relatives she’d often visited in Vancouver and found herself a werewolf tracker who managed to confirm the position of her distant cousin, Dava, in South America. She went to find her and managed to track her down in Columbia, only a couple of months before her pack was killed. Izzie, while fighting with the other guerillas, encountered a raid that went particularly badly. Izzie and a few others ransacked a camp unknowingly occupied by two werewolves. The both of them went fire-blooded and proceeded to brutally flatten the few people Izzie had come with. Izzie was wounded but managed to escape. She has a scar that crosses from the inner portion of her hip, diagonally across her side and up to her ribs, and to this day she’d recognize Joseph or Liam’s wolf form if she were to see it (but Liam’s in particular, as his claws are the ones that wounded her).

She did manage to return to the rest of the group, though, and Dava helped fix her up. Unfortunately, Dava wasn’t in the best condition in a few weeks either. She’d caught Lunapeste. She ordered Izzie to leave so she wouldn’t catch it too, and though Izzie didn’t want to leave her to die, self-preservation kept her running anyway.

She ran until she crossed the border into the States. She had to keep moving, and keep her mind off things, but her need to be social and her Calling were all itching perpetually. If a stranger had come upon her alone at this point in her life, they would not have doubted for a second that she’d gone utterly insane.

She managed to mend parts of her old self upon joining a nomadic pack just as the War broke out. She was glad to be among her own kind, but the pack was almost entirely female and the males of the pack were either mated or unappealing, which made her Calling extremely difficult to live with.

They’d migrated all the way to Washington in the course of two months, and by then rumors of a successful pack in Vancouver had reached the States. Izzie had nearly forgotten she had family there, and immediately departed from her old pack to try and find the rest of the Elkyones.

She managed. It wasn’t hard. They were a wealthy family, and they owned a fucking hospital. She was so happy to reunite with Dice and Aras after so many years that she offered to work for security at Elkyone Labs. After a little while, she was head of security. She didn’t talk much about her history, because talking about it meant talking about her lycanthropy, and after seeing the secret cell-block with all the caged werewolves she was determined to keep it a secret. That didn’t stop her from occasionally sneaking snacks into the strange pack of test subjects that had formed in the cages. Ultimately she was much too attached to the idea of having a family to tell either Dice or Aras what she was.

Inevitably they found out. They didn’t see her transform, thank god. It was the tattoo, which she’d kept hidden so carefully with long sleeves or arm warmers or a scarf or lots of bracelets or really thick watches. During a brief security breach one of the other officers was wounded and she took off the scarf without thinking to use as a tourniquet, and the officer reported the tattoo to Amon.

She was locked up. Not tested on, because she was Izzie, and some of that familial bond still held. She told the lab pack stories about Ireland or joined Kep in entertaining them with illusions. She suffered, even without the drugs. Near the end she was begging them to administer some, because then at least they would be forced to come close while shoving the needle through the mesh cage. Her Bonded's Calling hurt her psychological stability, as if her line of work hadn't already damaged it.